Jason Bateman vs. Jerry O'Connell
Battle of the Hot Former Child Stars

Between the two of them, Jerry O'Connell and Jason Bateman have lived every single possible experience a child actor has as he grows into adulthood in the biz. Obviously, there's the stage when they're just starting out, a little bit cute, and a little bit annoying. There are the teen years, immortalized forever in several solid months' worth of Tiger Beat pin-ups (probably in the case of Bateman's and O'Connell's best photos, being held in a fireproof vault at the Smithsonian). Then comes that weird hump period when the "teen" actor is trying to make the transition to adult roles (even though he was probably playing teenagers well into his twenties and is finally, at the age of about thirty-two, starting to look like a grown-up). There's the period after that, when the whole graceful-transition-to-professional-adulthood turns out to be less like Jodie Foster's career arc and more like Mindy Cohn's, and the former child actor just has to take every role he's offered, even in execrable, moronic comedies and straight-to-tape actioners. And, finally (at least in the case of our subjects today), there's coming back to TV in a more or less respectable series that will do as a vehicle to demonstrate to Hollywood that your chops are stronger than ever, and that you're not too full of yourself to take a role on a new TV show, in the hopes that it'll be a stepping tone to something even better.

On paper, Jerry O'Connell should have the edge here. After starting out as a good child actor in an actually good movie (Stand By Me), he went on to star in not just one but two long-running TV series (My Secret Identity and Sliders). Having already decisively proved that he had grown from a fat kind into a muscular and toothsome young adult, he landed a decent role in an Oscar-nominated movie (Jerry Maguire).

But then when O'Connell's career train jumped the rails, as it became clear that O'Connell brings...well, nothing to the table except a catalogue of dopey expressions and a body that can bench 200 lbs. Thus ensued interchangeable roles in interchangeably forgettable movies, like Body Shots, Tomcats, Buying The Cow, and the forthcoming Fat Slags (the last of which at least might be terrible in a new and heretofore unseen way, for O'Connell). Finally -- perhaps realizing that there wasn't going to be a Tomcats 2, um...EVER, and that even Amanda Peet had moved on from Body Shots to a semi-respectable career, so maybe it was time to segue back to TV -- O'Connell ended up trying to prove his humility (which he probably does possess) and talent (snort) on the non-C.S.I. forensic drama Crossing Jordan. Once again, O'Connell had made a misstep, because it's not much of a meaningful move, landing on a TV show to prove to the world that you're fresh and eager to work, if your show mysteriously disappears from the primetime schedule and no one notices. Or cares. Or cares how buff you got since you lost your comb on the railroad tracks, lo those many moons ago, and you start to realize that those soft-core porn auditions your agent keeps wanting to send you on don't sound so bad anymore....

Jason Bateman, on the other hand...well, with a few breaks to show up in his own incredibly terrible comedies (Love Stinks, The Sweetest Thing -- in the latter of which, when we saw four minutes of it on the movie channel, we were certain he was O'Connell), he's been plugging away at the I'm-humble-see-I'm-on-TV stage of his career for several years now. Unfortunately, the series he's chosen for his various comeback vehicles have been even humbler, ratings-wise. Though he made his name with the long-running Valerie/The Hogan Family, Bateman has yet to repeat that success as the protagonist of his own TV series -- not even when he's been joined by sitcom veterans (Judd Hirsch, in George & Leo), multiple-Emmy-winning producers (James Burrows, on Chicago Sons), or a gay sidekick (Danny Nucci in Some Of My Best Friends -- or was Bateman the gay guy in that one? Don't pretend you know, because you never watched it).

In all, Bateman has five failed sitcoms under his belt (not to mention helping to murder Silver Spoons and Little House On The Prairie), none of which were mourned, by anyone. But Bateman's rep as a serial killer (GEDDIT?!) hasn't prevented the good people at Imagine from placing him at the centre of the new sitcom Arrested Development, for which we are most grateful: it's great, and he's great in it, even saddled with the potentially thankless role of being the normal one in a family of weirdos and losers. Unfortunately for AD, it's on Fox, which hasn't exactly covered itself with glory when it comes to nurturing its funniest and most critically acclaimed comedies (viz The Ben Stiller Show, Futurama, Undeclared, and Andy Richter Controls The Universe), and the odds that AD will make it even to a full-season order are slim to nil. (Look for it on Trio's Brilliant But Cancelled around this time next year -- and thanks in advance for the tease, Fox executives!).

But we digress. The subject here is Jason Bateman, and the fact that he now finds himself in the fortunate position of being this year's Kiefer Sutherland. Remember two years ago when Sutherland -- all but forgotten as he languished in his own crap movies throughout most of the '90s -- suddenly emerged on 24, dramatically sexier with a few years on him? That's what it was like watching Bateman in the AD pilot two weeks ago. Bateman's hair is longer, he's grown into his nose, his voice has changed, dude, even the gap between his front teeth somehow looks good on him now. The man is attractive, is what we're saying. And even more important, he's charismatic and likable in the show. Sure, AD will in all likelihood turn out to be the latest notch on Jason Bateman's show-killing belt, but we think he'll be failing upward from here.

Advantage: Teen Wolf Too, baby.